Chapter 3 Jace
THREE
JACE
Olive Garden isn’t the most romantic place for dinner. But the food is decent. Although not as good as Mom’s—
Stop, Jace. Getting homesick on a date is not a good look.
But missing Mom’s lasagna isn’t the real problem. It’s the reason she makes lasagna so often. Lannie. And that’s where things go south.
This is the talk I have with my brain at least once a day. No thinking about Lannie. But my brain doesn’t listen. I’ve been crushing on Lannie since he moved in next door five years ago—nope. Not thinking about a drenched Lannie with his wet shirt clinging to his body in all the right places.
At least not while I’m on a date with my boyfriend. Sort of boyfriend?
Felix is dressed in a blue button-down, and the rolled-up sleeves show off his strong forearms. His blond hair is styled in a spiky brush cut.
He’s cute. Really cute. A complete contrast to Lannie’s unruly black hair with overlong bangs that he hides behind.
Not that I’ve seen him lately, but I’ve Instagram-stalked him.
Just to remind myself he’s still older. Still straight.
Though not still engaged.
“What?” Felix asks as he piles salad on his plate. Is that all he’s going to eat? He tilts his head. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
“Do I need a reason?” I ask with a laugh. “You’re cute.”
The “but not as cute as Lannie” is unsaid. Can he still hear it?
I may have mentioned Lannie once or twice.
Or more. I’ve tried to get over my crush.
At first, by going out with a different guy every weekend, looking for a guy who gave me the spark I get from being around Lannie.
But dating so many guys was earning me a reputation as a player, according to my roommate Nikki. That put an end to my speed dating.
Not that it was working.
Then I tried actual dating. Getting to know guys to see if I could find that spark.
But after the same results—not feeling anything but annoyed when the guys got clingy—I decided to focus on school.
I was much happier after that. Still lonely.
Still homesick. Still crushing on a straight older guy who thought of me as a kid. But happier.
Until eight months ago, when I got a wake-up call from my sister.
“Lannie’s getting married.”
Lannie and Alicia had been dating for the last two years, so it wasn’t really a surprise, yet my heart felt like it’d been blindsided. Run over.
When Mom video-called me, I forced myself to smile. To ask the right questions. “Have they set a date?”
“Valentine’s Day.”
I stared at her in surprise. “You’re joking.”
“I think it’s romantic.” Mom darted a look at someone off-camera. Probably Dad.
“It’s a cliché.” I didn’t need Mom’s disapproving look because I had no room to talk. I was a walking cliché. Crushing on a straight older guy who was nice to me.
But Lannie isn’t a fan of cheesy rom-coms. “They’re too on the nose. If you love someone, they deserve something original. Unexpected,” he’d once told me.
Yet here we were.
“Let me be excited, okay? One of my kids is getting married.”
“He’s not your kid, Mom.”
She waved my comment away. “He’s like a son.”
“More like a neighbor.” I wasn’t sure why I was pushing this. “Your next-door neighbor.”
“Can you believe this?” she asked, her gaze again going to someone off-camera. I still assumed my dad until Lannie’s smiling face and gorgeous dimples were right there on screen.
“Be nice to your mom, Jace.”
“Oh…um…hi, Lannie. Congrats.” I’d choked out the words. My feelings were complicated. Moving. Thinking. Breathing. They’re all difficult to manage with a broken heart. But Lannie deserved to be happy.
Except, it didn’t last. According to Nikki, who heard it from Ruby, they broke up a few months ago.
But none of that matters.
Lannie will eventually find the right person and settle down. And since Lannie is straight, it will never be me.
Felix clears his throat, pulling me out of my thoughts. “Typical, Jace,” he says, stabbing his manicotti like it deserves to be punished.
When did our main courses arrive?
“What does that mean?” I stir my gnocchi soup, watching the spinach and cheese swirl together and ignoring the lasagna I shouldn’t have ordered.
“You’re zoning out again. Am I that boring?”
Saying yes—because baseball is his favorite topic and it bores me to tears—would only make things worse. If it interests my boyfriend, I should be interested or at least feign interest, right? “I have a lot on my mind. Sorry.”
Felix opens his mouth to respond, but he snaps it shut when the server slinks over.
“Would you like to hear about our desserts?”
“No,” Felix grumbles.
“Yes,” I say at the same time.
The server grins at me, and he’s cute, but the flirty looks he’s been giving Felix and me all night tell me what’s on his mind. And a threesome isn’t happening. But he’s a nice distraction from Felix’s grumpy mood.
“We have a delicious chocolate brownie lasagna, tiramisu, and—”
“This isn’t working,” Felix announces. “We aren’t working.”
The server’s jaw drops as his eyes flash from me to my boyfriend. Or, just taking a wild stab based on Felix’s outburst, my soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend.
“Are you breaking up with me?” I hiss, slamming my glass of tea down and spilling some on the table. “Here? Now?”
“Jace,” Felix says with a heavy sigh.
The server makes a sound in his throat and clutches his order pad to his chest.
I turn my glare on him. “Can you give us a minute?”
He bolts and guilt settles in my stomach. None of this is his fault. I’ll give him a generous tip.
“Jace,” Felix says again, with the patience of a saint. He uses that tone a lot with me. I’m always overreacting. Or not reacting enough.
I push back the panic and guilt. I’m upset, but not at the thought of losing a boyfriend. At the thought of failure. Will I ever find someone? Or am I doomed to this unrequited crush?
I blink back tears. No crying during dinner.
Felix throws his napkin on the table. “This is a perfect example. It’s barely been four weeks. If I thought you actually cared enough for tears, that might make a difference.”
“What does that mean?” My shock and guilt morph into anger. With a side of humiliation. Was this breakup planned?
“This,” he says, waving a hand between us, “isn’t going anywhere.”
Seriously? “We’re dating. Having fun.” I ignore the server who’s trying to look busy but clearly listening in. There goes his tip.
Felix scoffs. “Are we?”
Elbows on the table, I lean closer. “Guys do this all the time, Felix. They date. They hook up. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”
He stands quickly, knocking over his chair. The carpet muffles the sound, but I still notice heads turning our way. “Except we’re not hooking up, Jace. If I were getting sex out of it, or hell, anything out of it, I might stick around.”
Shock steals my voice as my chest constricts. I can feel everyone’s eyes on us as heat floods my face. I stand, needing to yell at him, but no inspiring words come to mind. My hand tightens on my cool drink, grounding me. “You’re an asshole.”
His eyes flash briefly with something resembling hurt before he blinks it away. Lifting his chin, he regards me with pity. “Maybe. But I’m done wasting my time with someone holding on to a fantasy. I’m not a stand-in until your ‘true love’ shows up.” His eyes dart to something behind me.
His distinct woodsy scent warns me before his voice. “Jace?”
I jerk around, my heart in my throat—and my hand still clutching my iced tea. Lannie? The tea in my glass doesn’t stop when I do. Instead, it flies out of the cup just as Lannie steps closer, the brown liquid drenching his white shirt.
No, no. Not again.
He gasps, his eyes wide with shock. I no longer care about the countless faces in the restaurant. Or the nosy server. Or Felix. Which should tell me something, right?
Lannie, the man I’ve been pining over since I was seventeen, just witnessed the most embarrassing moment of my life. And I again ruined his shirt.
His hazel eyes darken and his lips press together in a tight line of…disapproval? No, not disapproval. Not just disapproval. Anger. I’ve never seen Lannie this angry before.
And never at me.
He pulls at the wet shirt clinging to his muscled body, and I drag my eyes away.
“What are you doing here?” I ask accusingly, trying to settle on an emotion other than this strange combination of humiliation and hope.
His hand stills as he stares at me. I cross my arms, only I’m still holding the cup in my hand, so the remaining liquid spills on my new shirt. Perfect. I slam it on the table, not looking at Felix. The server is still hovering, so I glare at him. “Can you get us a mop or something?”
He rushes away, and I lift a brow at Lannie. “Well?”
“I wanted to see you—talk to you. In person—” He drags a hand through his bangs, sweeping them back, and I try to ignore the hope that ignites at his words. “Your mom asked me to—”
I gasp in horror, and he, thankfully, stops talking. The slight hope in my heart dies a painful death and my skin feels hot and itchy all over. Mom sent him.
Can this night get any worse?